But perhaps the Marquis would remember her father and feel because they were both English that he should help her.
Her stepmother seated herself at a Roulette table and said to the Comte,
“1 will play first and you look after Daniela. Then we will change places.”
“It will be a pleasure,” the Comte smiled.
He was standing behind Esmé’s chair watching her place her stakes.
First she lost, then she won and obviously did not wish to give up her place now that she had a small pile of chips in front of her.
It was then that Daniela saw the Marquis rise from another table in the room and she watched him change what must have been a large amount of chips for paper money.
As he walked out of the casino, she realised that he was going into the garden.
She turned to the Comte.
“I wonder if I might have something to drink?” she asked. “It is very hot in here.”
“You are quite right,” he agreed, “and I expect Esmé would like one too.”
He bent forward to say to her,
“Would you like a glass of champagne?”
“I would love it,” she replied.
The Comte looked around for one of the servants in their knee breeches and smart uniforms.
He saw one at the far end of the room and, as he walked towards him, Daniela knew that this was her opportunity.
Quickly, like a small animal escaping from the hunt, she pushed through the crowd of onlookers standing around the Roulette tables.
She found her way to the French windows that opened onto the garden.
“They will be – looking for me,” she said now to the Marquis, “and they will be very – angry if I am – found here with – you.”
For a moment he did not speak and she said in a piteous little voice,
“You – do understand – I am very f-frightened?”
“Of course I do,” he replied, “and I must help you to escape.”
“Will you really do that?”
Daniela clasped her hands together and there was a light in her eyes that seemed to rival the stars.
“It’s not going to be easy,” the Marquis said cautiously, “but I cannot allow your father’s daughter and an Englishwoman to be treated in such a disgraceful fashion.”
“That is what I – hoped and – prayed you would say,” Daniela answered.
“But you do understand,” he said, “that if I accuse your stepmother or de Sauzan of a crime they have not yet committed they will deny it, and it will only be your word against theirs.”
“B-but – I cannot marry him! Supposing his wife is – not alive after all – and it is l-legal?”
“I find it hard to believe that de Sauzan, however criminally-minded he may be, would actually become a bigamist,” the Marquis observed.
“Nevertheless I am sure that is what they are planning – and if we are – married in a Protestant Church, perhaps, as he is a Catholic, for him it will not be a marriage.”
She hesitated over the words.
Then she said in a voice the Marquis could hardly hear,
“I-I could not let him – touch me.”
“No, of course not, and that is why we have to act quickly. For the moment, I am not certain what I can do.”
He remembered as he spoke that he had intended to leave Baden-Baden the day after tomorrow, but now he might have to stay longer.
One thing was quite certain and that was that he must take Daniela with him.
He had no idea how he could do so.
If, as she had said, Esmé Seabrooke had taken legal advice and she was genuinely Daniela’s Guardian, the law both in England and, he supposed, in France, gave the Guardian of a minor the same power as that of a father or mother.
This meant that a Guardian could do very much as he or she liked.
When it came to marriage, there was no doubt that it could take place without the consent of the bride, who would have no say in the choice of her husband.
As the Marquis was thinking, he was aware that Daniela was looking at him, her eyes very revealing in the light from the sky.
She was also, the Marquis was aware, very attractive.
He was not interested in young girls and never had been.
But if he had to play the Knight Gallant to a woman, it made it seem more credible that she should be young and lovely rather than otherwise.
“I feel,” Daniela was saying in her soft musical voice, “as if Papa has sent you to me – at a moment when I was so desperate – and had begun to think that the – only way I could – escape such a horror would be to – d-drown myself.”
“You are not to talk like that!” the Marquis admonished her. “I am sure that your father, if nothing else, would want you to be brave and certainly to do nothing so wicked as to commit suicide.”
“I expected you would think like that, as Papa would have,” Daniela said, “but – it is not only that the Comte is a – horrid – evil man. He also – belongs to – my stepmother.”
The Marquis thought that it was what he might have expected, although it had not in fact entered his mind.
He was aware that, because she was so young and had been brought up in a Convent, she was deeply shocked at the idea of her stepmother taking a lover.
And she had been shocked in the same way when she found out that Esmé was staying with her father.
He recognised that it was a long time since he had met anyone so innocent and unspoilt.
It also flashed through his mind that it would be a disaster for Daniela to meet anybody like Cora Pearl.
Or to realise the depths of depravity that the grandes courtesans of Paris could sink to.
Aloud he said,
“What we have to do, Daniela, is to be very clever about this. Whatever happens your stepmother must not be aware that I am trying to help you.”
He paused before he went on,
“At the same time, if events are speeded up or if anything happens unexpectedly and you wish to tell me about it, try to send a message to the Villa d’Horizon.”
“Is that where you are staying?” Daniela asked.
“It is,” the Marquis replied. “When I decided to bring my horses to Baden-Baden, a friend lent me his villa as he has gone to Monte Carlo.”
‘The Villa d’Horizon,’ Daniela repeated to herself.
She was thinking as she did so that it would be very difficult to find a way of communicating with the Marquis.
At the same time it was somehow comforting to know where he would be.
“I think perhaps –” the Marquis began.
As he spoke, there was the sound of voices.
“She must be here somewhere!” a woman exclaimed.
The Marquis was aware that Daniela had stiffened and so he said quickly,
“If that is your stepmother, say that you have been sitting here alone because you felt faint.”
Then with the swiftness of an athlete the Marquis rose from the seat and disappeared into the bushes behind him. One moment he was there, the next he had gone.
Daniela sat still without moving except that she turned her face up to the stars.
Esmé Seabrooke, accompanied by the Comte, came in sight, moving quickly over the green lawn looking to right and left.
When she saw Daniela, she gave an exclamation,
“There she is!”
She walked quickly across the intervening space and, when she reached Daniela, she said disagreeably,
“Where have you been? What do you mean by coming here by yourself and giving us all a fright?”
“I-I am sorry, Stepmama,” Daniela replied, “but – I suddenly felt faint – and came into the garden for some air.”
“I told you she could come to no harm,” the Comte observed testily.
“All the same she might have,” Esmé Seabrooke answered. “I warned you not to leave her.”
“Well, here she is, safe and sound,” the
Comte replied. “I suggest, Daniela, you come back to the casino and have a glass of champagne.”
“Yes – thank you,” Daniela stammered, “if that is what you – wish me to do.”
“In future you will do as you are told,” Esmé Seabrooke said angrily. “You have given me a shock and I had to leave the tables just when I was winning!”
“I-I am – sorry.”
“And so you should be!”
Esmé Seabrooke paused for a moment.
Then, as if she thought that she should say something different, she added,
“You upset André by running off like that, didn’t she?”
“Yes, indeed, I was extremely perturbed,” the Comte agreed. “Anyone as lovely as you might easily have got into trouble being alone in the garden with so many strange men about.”
Daniela did not answer and, as if he felt that he must draw attention to himself, the Comte went on,
“If I had found that you had run away with some handsome stranger, I should have been jealous, very jealous!”
“What–I would like to do,” Daniela said as if she had not heard him, “is to go to bed. I have a headache – because it has been so hot.”
“Really, How can you be so selfish?” Esmé asked angrily. “You know André and I want to play at the tables and most girls would find the excitement of the casino enjoyable.”
She would have said more, but the Comte intervened.
“If Daniela has a headache, we should take her home,” he said.
He paused before continuing,
“If you want to return, I will bring you back and, quite frankly, I feel it rather frustrating to be in the casino and not be in a position to play.”
He gave Esmé a very revealing glance as he spoke.
Daniela thought it unlikely that her stepmother had given him any money until he had done what she wanted him to do.
As this was something that she did not wish to think about, she moved a little quicker so that she walked ahead of them.
As they whispered to each other behind her, she did not even bother to listen.
All she could feel was that her heart was leaping with joy because the Marquis had agreed he would help her.
Somehow, however difficult it might be, she was sure that he would find a way of doing so.
As they walked through the casino, she did not see the crowds around the Roulette and Baccarat tables.
Nor did she notice the beauty of the rooms and the dazzling light from the chandeliers.
She was saying in her heart over and over again,
‘Thank You, God. Thank You for letting – me find – him!’
Chapter Four
The Marquis waited some appreciable time before Daniela, escorted by her stepmother and the Comte, disappeared towards the casino.
He was thinking again that he had never in his life heard such an extraordinary story.
And yet, because he was very perceptive, he was convinced that Daniela was telling him the truth.
It was, he thought, a warning to all men, even to himself, not to become involved too deeply with the courtesans of Paris.
Like Esmé Blanc they would sink to any depths to get their own way.
He could understand that for her the idea of becoming the wife of an English Nobleman had been irresistible.
Equally it seemed incredible that, having achieved her objective, she should have allowed Lord Seabrooke to become involved in a duel.
It might have been accidental, but from what Daniela had told him about it he had a feeling that Esmé had deliberately contrived to put her rich husband in a dangerous position.
All this led to the question as to what he should do about Daniela.
He had no wish whatsoever to be involved in a scandal and he was certain that the new Lady Seabrooke would not hesitate to blackmail him in any way she could.
If it was to her advantage, she might even bring a law suit against him.
‘What the devil am I to do?’ he asked himself as he walked slowly back to the casino.
He could not help thinking that if he was sensible he would leave Baden-Baden and its problems and return to England alone.
Then he knew that despite his cynicism he had been very touched by the terror that he had heard in Daniela’s voice.
He knew also that she was young, innocent of the world, and to all intents and purposes completely alone.
It struck him that he could contact her relations and tell them to send one of her male relatives over to Baden-Baden to sort things out.
Then he had the uncomfortable feeling that there would not be time for this.
If Daniela was already married, it would be very difficult to prove that it was illegal.
He could also remember the horror in her voice as she had said,
“I-I could not let him – touch me!”
The Marquis almost prided himself on being ruthless and quite unconcerned with other people’s feelings.
Yet he knew that this was the cry of a child in the dark and that he could not ignore it.
He walked into the casino hoping that Daniela would have left by now.
He saw with relief there was no sign of her or her stepmother, nor of the dubious Comte.
He could, however, see Cora Pearl sipping champagne and being entertained by three men. And he suspected that she had already lost the money he had given her at the tables and was waiting for more.
She was looking fantastic and alluring in a gown, which was immodestly low and ornamented with Birds of Paradise.
He guessed that it had cost more than a year’s salary of anyone employed in the casino.
Her necklace was spectacular, as were her earrings, bracelets and the crescent moon she was wearing in her hair.
As the Marquis joined the party, one of the men exclaimed,
“Hello, Crowle, we missed you and wondered where you had gone.”
“It was hot,” the Marquis said briefly, “and I went into the garden.”
“I only hope she was not cool!” one of the other men said in French and laughed at his own flippant remark.
The Marquis was ordering himself some champagne and did not reply.
The conversation was amusing and witty, usually at the expense of somebody else.
An hour later the Marquis turned to Cora,
“Let me take you home. I am tired and there is another day’s racing tomorrow.”
She looked up at him with an obvious invitation in her eyes and he was not certain when she rose to her feet whether she had answered or not.
When they had driven away from the casino in a comfortable carriage drawn by two horses, the Marquis asked her,
“What do you know about a woman called Esmé Blanc?”
Cora Pearl raised her pencilled eyebrows before she replied,
“A tupenny tart with ambitions to get out of the sewer!”
The Marquis laughed.
However successful she had been, Cora had never lost her common accent or her Leicester Square way of speaking.
“Why are you interested?” she enquired.
“I understand she married an Englishman whom I knew,” the Marquis replied choosing his words carefully.
“She married him and then contrived to get him murdered!” Cora added.
It was like her, the Marquis thought, to know what he suspected himself.
“I should have thought that was a mistake,” he said, “seeing that she would have been of some social importance as Lady Seabrooke.”
“All Esmé Blanc, which of course isn’t her real name, has ever wanted,” Cora replied, “is money. She wants to live in the same style as I do, but has no idea how to set about it.”
“That I can understand,” the Marquis replied mockingly. “You are unique, Cora, as indeed you well know.”
“It’s hardly a compliment to be imitated by women like Esmé Blanc, who at the moment is calling herself the Comtesse de Bellevue and, if there was ever a Comte of
that name, I’ll eat my hat!”
The Marquis laughed at the very English idiom, which sounded strange in a foreign country.
“Now tell me about this man she was with tonight,” the Marquis progressed, “Comte André de Sauzan.”
“A reptile!” Cora exclaimed. “A procurer, blackmailer, a man whom I would not allow to cross the threshold of any house I own! He is dirt and should be in the gutter where he belongs!”
She spoke so violently that the Marquis asked,
“What has he done to you?”
“He tried to steal something belonging to me,” Cora replied, “but I caught him in the act and told my servants to throw him out of the window. It happened to be closed and he was in hospital for several weeks.”
The Marquis laughed again.
It was so like Cora and he could visualise all too vividly what had happened.
“He and Esmé Blanc had a girl with them tonight,” Cora said, as if recalling what she had hardly noticed before.
“That is right,” the Marquis muttered.
“You can bet they’re selling her to the highest bidder and don’t let it be you!”
“I shall look to you to protect me,” the Marquis smiled.
The horses had stopped outside the Villa Mimosa, which one of Cora Pearl’s many admirers had given her several years earlier.
She had redecorated it several times, but the Marquis could not help being amused by the present appearance of her bedroom.
It was certainly sensational.
Everything was white – the walls, the curtains, the carpet and the flowers.
The exception was the bed, which was huge and stood on two steps covered in white fur.
It was of black jet carved into the shape of a fantastic boat with the figure of a naked man holding the tiller.
The sheets, the pillows and the blankets on the bed were all black, the cover being of priceless black ermine.
The Marquis knew that no one else could have thought of such an astonishing and compelling background.
As Cora lay naked on the black bed, her exquisite figure had the translucence of a pearl.
The Marquis answered the question in her eyes.
*
The first fingers of the dawn were coming up on the horizon as the Marquis walked the short way to the Villa d’Horizon.
171. The Marquis Wins (The Eternal Collection) Page 6
